Top Stories
Stories in Chapters that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
French Kiss
The flight attendant dimmed the cabin lights hours ago. Only three reading lights glowed, casting an eerie pall on the few passengers under them who, like me, couldn’t sleep. The man behind me was awake and staring out the window as I stood and pirouetted toward the lavatory. He turned in his seat and looked up at me, the spitting image of William Shatner in the Twilight Zone episode “Nightmare at 20,000 Feet,” which I had watched two days earlier. He had the same pensive way of lifting the inner corners of his eyebrows, His hair was razor cut around the ears and nape, combed away from his face. Almost everyone else on the airplane was dressed in jeans, but he wore a charcoal suit with his tie still knotted. I hoped he wasn’t seeing little gremlins scurrying on the wings, trying to disable the plane. He smiled at me, and murmured, “Something is on the wing.” Damn, I thought. I knew it! I knew this would go badly. I must have looked like I had not understood him, because he repeated what he said: “Bonne nuit, Mademoiselle.” Relieved, I whispered, “Good night to you, too, Monsieur.” Thank God there were no hairy gremlins far above the Atlantic Ocean, only the twinkling lights that made us visible in the velvet night as we sliced through it toward Paris. My jitters were a product of my active imagination --- and what I had done.
By Lacy Loar-Gruenler3 years ago in Chapters
This is where it gets dark.
"Mom, she’s dead.” I don’t know how I wrote those words or why I chose to say it that way. But those were the facts. They found her and she was dead. How else do you say that? I had to tell my mom, she knew we’d been out looking for Libby all day. So, I just said it. My phone was old and the battery was of course on 1% which meant I had to say it quickly. I remember trying to think of a different way to say “my battery is dying” because the words “dead” and “dying” were now suddenly very real and literal for me. Mary Anne was crying, and her friend Wendy who’d come to be a support was crying. I think I was crying too. I think I was also completely made of stone. I guess it was shock. But to be honest, I knew in my gut as soon as I got the call that morning telling me Libby was missing that it wouldn’t end like it did last time. But still my body and brain were made of cold, hard, marble. All I could do was whatever had to be done. Mary Anne and I knew that the next thing that had to be done was to tell Kathryn. But she was thousands of miles away getting ready to perform on Broadway.
By Mary Skinner3 years ago in Chapters
Beer Money. Runner-Up in Chapters Challenge.
Masters Degree secured, job quit, full-time writing career underway, the first part of my revenge was almost complete. Who cared if I was a fat, ambitious, opinionated motherfucker? Well, him obviously, but who else?
By S. A. Crawford3 years ago in Chapters
What They Don't Tell You About Being The Creative One
What they don’t tell you about being “The Creative One” is that everything you do is a copy of someone else. Your notebook is filled with snowflakes in bright pink, purple, and blue. Ever since you saw Frozen, it’s all you think about. Your pen draws each stroke like an ice skater glides across the rink. The geometric shapes and straight lines are soothing to draw, and it is more entertaining than listening to dry lectures. When you’re not drawing snowflakes, you’re writing Sherlock Holmes fiction. As you sit and listen to Dr. Davis drone on and on about something completely unrelated to Child Psychology, young John and Sherlock are adventuring through the streets of London with the newest addition to their team, a bloodhound pup named Toby.
By Sarah Massey3 years ago in Chapters
Save One Bullet
Shaking myself back to life after my near miss with death and prison, I checked on my phone for motels in the area and found three that looked promising. The closest one was the ‘Rest Inn’. It was five minutes away from my location, so I drove past it, quickly. Ugh. Nope. Not while I still had working credit cards.
By Tina D'Angelo3 years ago in Chapters
Doubts and Desires
Doubts and Desires: A Woman's Inner Struggle in a Perfect Life She questions if her thoughts are misguided. If she is living a life of perfection or just an illusion. Is it really ok to be content? She looks around at her home full of belongings and comforts that many would dream of having. She wonders if she is being selfish in her pursuit of happiness; mothers and wives were supposed to put everyone else's happiness above their own. She considers how hard she has worked to get to this point in life. The countless hours spent studying and the responsibilities she took on at an early age to ensure her white-picket lifestyle. She made so many sacrifices along the way to check each of life's boxes.
By A Lady with a Pen3 years ago in Chapters
